Fire
by Blue-Kool-Aid
Summary: Damon and Elena need each other. They don't realize that until it's too late. D/E; Post 2.09 - "Katerina." Please R&R.
1. Fire

Title: Fire  
Rating: T  
Type: Originally a one-shot; changed to short, multi-chapter  
Pairing: Damon/Elena  
Setting: Post-2.09 ("Katerina")

A/N: Hey, all! Here's a short little one-shot that wouldn't leave me alone. Hope you enjoy – please R&R. : ) For those of you following my other _TVD_ stories, I should have both _Push_ and _Shadow Dance_ updated by the end of the week. : )

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Fire  
Part I: Fire

_You say you don't love me  
Girl, you can't hide your desire  
'Cause when we kiss  
Fire  
_  
-Bruce Springsteen, "Fire"

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"Is Stefan here?"

Damon sensed Elena before she had even stepped into the Salvatore boarding house. Her quiet yet stunningly determined presence was extremely difficult to miss – at least to him. He had come to unconsciously memorize every aspect of her aura and every time that she was near, he privately revelled in its sweetness.

"No," Damon replied softly, swirling his untouched Bourbon as he gazed into the fireplace. The flames danced and licked at the edges, trying to escape their prison. Sometimes, just to remind himself that he was in fact _real_ and capable of experiencing physical pain, he would daringly stick his hand close enough to the heat so as to burn his flesh.

There was a moment's hesitation before Elena tentatively walked up to him, standing in front of the fire and obstructing his line of vision. She wore her usual outfit; long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and those quirky Converse shoes. "Well," she began, locking her gaze with his, "where is he, then?" She wanted to thank him for last night.

Those searing brown eyes of hers almost had the power to melt his icy blue ones. _Almost_. "He went somewhere with Rose; hunting, maybe. Though knowing what I know about Rose, I don't necessarily take her for the animal-blood type. But Saint Stefan can have that effect on people, can't he?" Damon raised a dark brow at Elena, and then briefly contemplated the liquor in his hand. He didn't know why he had poured himself a drink in the first place.

"I see," Elena said slowly, looking Damon up and down, as if calculating the validity of his statement.

"Besides," Damon continued casually, the hint of a smirk gracing his handsome features, "I thought you two broke up." He looked past her and into the fire. It crackled furiously.

Elena's head snapped up sharply. "We're on a break – we're not broken up," she growled. Why did Damon have to be so _infuriating_? And why did she feel nothing but _pain_ when she met his eyes?

"Sorry," he apologized stiffly, suddenly holding his glass still. God, he could barely stand to look at her. Every time he did, his sincere words of mere nights ago played on repeat in his head. And still, on top of that, the guilt he felt for sleeping with Rose cut through him. It didn't even make _sense_; Elena did not belong to him and he had vowed to let her go.

But he was bound to Elena, and no matter how hard he tried – confessing his feelings, having meaningless sex with someone he barely knew – he could _not _let her go. Why did he have to fall in love with those who would never love him in return?

"I'll come back tomorrow, then. It's getting late," Elena said, turning to move away from the fireplace. She noticed that Damon was once again staring vacantly into the fire; she also noticed that there was something all _wrong_ about his entire demeanour. He was acting passive – and keeping silent.

She figured that maybe he was exhausted – Stefan had probably told him by now that she had been off gallivanting with Katherine in the tomb. She grimaced as she recalled collapsing into Stefan's arms in a heap. She had been a mess. But despite their 'break,' Stefan had been there for her.

Elena was momentarily startled by how much she seemed to even care about Damon's well-being. But then again, this man had saved her life more times than she could dare to count. And this past time, well – she felt she owed him _something_. So, instead of leaving, she stepped toward him and hesitantly rested her hand on his forearm. "Damon...are you...okay?"

Damon started from her hand on him, and quickly moved away, watching both her hand and her facial expression fall. He carefully set down his glass on the coffee table, and then replied in a clipped voice, "I'm fine, Elena. Tired, you know? This constant need to rescue people can become a bit wary after awhile."

Elena knew what he was doing, for she was no stranger to his games. Something _was_ wrong, and he was going to shut her out by acting cold. Maybe she deserved it – she hadn't exactly been on a 'Damon-welcoming-committee' during the past few weeks. He had tried to kill Jeremy, for God's sake.

And even though she had proclaimed them 'done,' she couldn't stop caring.

And she couldn't dismiss the haunted look in his eyes.

So boldly, Elena stepped forward again, and boxed him in. The light from the fireplace washed over them in one direction, and the light of the moon in the other. "Damon," she said in her gentlest tone, "don't shut me out."

Damon clenched his teeth and refused to look at her, turning his head slightly away. "You've made it crystal clear, Elena, that 'shutting you out' is exactly what you want me to do. So if you could kindly move this pity party away from me, we could both return to our desired activities."

Cautiously, Elena reached up a hand to his cheek, and gently turned his face back towards her. The ice in those eyes trembled as she stood there, her palm laying flat against his cold cheek. "Please, Damon. It might not seem like it, but I don't want you to hurt any more than I want Stefan to hurt. What can I do to ease your pain?"

It was becoming more difficult to keep the switch in the off position, especially with Elena's hand pressed to his cheek like that. His thoughts spun wildly; he had vowed to let her go because to pursue her would be reckless and selfish. Why, then, were words forming on his lips before he could even stop them?

"Kiss me," Damon blurted, without a second thought. His eyes were glued to hers. What the hell would a _kiss_ solve?

Elena gasped and dropped her hand from his face. "What?" She had not been expecting that.

"Kiss me, Elena. Just once." His voice held a note of hope and his tone bordered on pleading.

Elena had flashbacks of the last time they had 'kissed.' His mouth had been rough and demanding and had tasted like whiskey, as he held her face tightly between her hands, even as she begged him to stop. She swallowed hard. "Damon, I can't kiss you. That would be –"

"Once," he repeated, cutting her off. He had taken two steps toward her and their bodies were almost touching. "Please." His voice came out ragged as he mentally slapped himself. Why the hell couldn't he stay away from her? Why did he have to keep screwing things up between them, right when they seemed to be getting back to being friends? He was being completely and utterly foolish.

Elena realized then, with a sudden jolt, that she _wanted_ to kiss him. Maybe if she did, she would ease his hurt...and maybe she would ease the ache that had suddenly swelled up in her own heart. But what about Stefan? Would she be cheating on him, even if they were technically on a break? _Was _a simple kiss an act of infidelity?

She loved Stefan, but suddenly, she had to know why the very _thought_ of kissing Damon was pushing her nearly over the brink. It was like an electric switch had gone off in her head, suddenly compelling her to do irresponsible things.

And she was startled by a sudden image of Damon chastely kissing her forehead. She shook it away.

"Okay, Damon," Elena murmured, reaching a hand up to his face, gently pulling it down. "I will kiss you. Once."

Damon trembled underneath her touch, hardly able to comprehend the situation - so much for not being selfish. He felt the pad of her thumb caress his cheek and he leaned into it, reaching his own hand up to cover hers.

Elena reached around the back of his head with her other hand and urged him closer, until their lips were mere inches apart. She heard him draw in a shaky breath. In the time that she had known Damon, she had never seen him like this – this fragile, this vulnerable – not even when he had discovered that Katherine wasn't in the tomb. She was afraid of hurting him more; she didn't know what his pain was, but she suddenly wanted to take it away.

"Don't hide from me, Damon," Elena whispered before touching her lips to his.

Her world _exploded_.

His world _burned_.

His lips were unexpectedly warm and soft as Elena kissed him as gently as she could; he returned the kiss just as hesitantly. One of his hands had gone up to the side of her face, gently brushing her dark hair behind her ear, knuckles grazing her cheek. He moved his soft hand downward and stroked her jaw.

Her body automatically sought Damon's as she pressed herself closer to him, feeling the heat roll off of him in waves. How could he be so _warm_?

The kiss was so simple and pure that Elena never wanted to break it. So, hand still tangled in his hair, she pressed him down further and tenderly drew his bottom lip between her teeth, sucking softly.

Damon stood absolutely still, his body pulsing with something he couldn't quite identify. All that mattered in the world was this moment; Elena's lips moving over his, so carefully and tentatively – as if she was afraid that she might break him.

And just as she was pulling back, Elena felt something hot and wet splash her cheek. Looking up, she realized with a shock, that tears were spilling out of Damon's eyes, rolling slowly down his cheeks and dripping onto her own face.

Even though she _knew _that she had never seen Damon Salvatore cry, something in Elena's mind whispered to her that she _had_.

Damon let the tears spill down his cheeks, not bothering to hide them. There was something utterly redeeming about the moment, and he didn't think he could stop it if he wanted to. Elena wrapped her arms around his silent, trembling form as she whispered, "Shhh," into his ear.

He felt his knees give way and slowly – _slowly _– the two sank to the floor in front of the fireplace, on their knees, as Elena held him onto him and he clung to her just as tightly.

"There's something between us, Elena," he murmured into her shoulder, repeating words he had already said to her once.

Elena's response was different this time, though. "I know, Damon." How could she have been so God damn blind to it all? To avoid becoming another Katherine? That woman had inflicted over a century of pain onto Damon because he had loved her _too_ much.

Before now, there had been only one thing that Elena had known for certain: that she loved Stefan and she wanted to be with him.

But something began to bubble hotly within her, churning her insides, as she gently titled Damon's chin up and looked into his eyes – no, his s_oul_.

Damon's body thrummed with desire as Elena searched his eyes, running her hands through his hair. God, he _needed _her. He _loved _her. But even in the heat of this moment, he couldn't tell her that. She could never know that.

And Elena, as she quietly comforted the fallen one, suddenly _knew_; she had always known.

She loved Damon.

And that was one thing that he could never know.

The fire suddenly vanished, leaving behind an eerie puff of smoke as Damon and Elena clung to each other in the iridescent light of the moon.

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**11/17/10** - Due to the overwhelmingly positive response and generous, gracious, lovely reviews, I've decided to make this story at least a three-shot. Thank you so much, guys - your feedback is very much appreciated!


	2. Blaze

Hello, everyone! Thank you _so_ much for the wonderful reviews! I had already started writing the second part, but your lovely words truly encouraged me to make this into at least a three or four part story. So...thank you! :) Here's the next part – I hope you like it as much as the first one. My warnings are these: it's not as angsty (perhaps that's a relief); and there's...blood play! So...onwards!

Enjoy and please review! : )

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Fire  
Part II: Blaze

_'Cause I'm going down in a blaze of glory  
Lord I never drew first  
But I drew first blood_

-Bon Jovi, "Blaze of Glory"

* * *

In the dark, Damon continued to embrace Elena, holding utterly still. It was as though they were each other's lifeline and they were afraid to let go. Damon's tears had subsided, but he could still feel their dampness on his face; an all too painful reminder of the fact that he could not have her.

And there was something that was still bothering the both of them: that kiss had _burned_.

Elena opened her mouth to say something, but the fire suddenly roared to life again in the fireplace, and they both jumped, slightly startled. They slowly turned to face each other again, and that's when Elena noticed how _white_ he was. He was naturally pale, of course, but he looked completely blanched.

Elena disentangled herself from his warm grip and sat down on the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. As she looked over him carefully, wondering how had become so pale, she felt vulnerable; maybe even helpless. That was the most passionate moment she had ever shared with anyone and like that, it was _over_.

Damon hesitantly followed her lead and sat with one leg straight out and the other bent at the knee. He rested his arm on his knee and then lowered his head to his arm. For once in his life, he was speechless. What was he to say to her? _Thank you for kissing me, but that doesn't cure my insatiable love for you_? Actually – it only further ignited it. "I'm sorry, Elena," he said helplessly, shame marking his tone.

She ignored his apology because something had caught her sharp eyes before he had sat down. "Damon," she began, eyes trailing the smooth expanse of his neck, "what the hell _happened_?"

Startled, his hand flew up to the left side of his neck where he knew the puncture wounds were still visible. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He silently cursed himself, having completely forgotten about them.

Elena scooted toward him and without hesitation, gripped his chin and tilted his head back so she could examine his neck more thoroughly. The spot in question was bruised blue, and the twin marks still sported dried blood. She ran her fingertips over the wound but pulled them away when he flinched.

Damon, in the meantime, decided that he might as well tell the shameful truth. "I slept with Rose," he said bluntly, watching her expression change from concerned to startled. "I...we...I don't have feelings for her," he finally managed. He didn't know why he felt so guilty; it's not like him and Elena were..._together_.

Somehow, Elena understood perfectly what he meant. But that didn't quell her curiosity. "Damon, I know that vampires like to...exchange blood during sexual encounters, but I also know that those marks heal quickly. Or, at least, they _should_."

Damon swallowed hard. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Elena of all people. "She took my blood, but I never took any of hers. That and...well...she bit me in multiple places. And I haven't...fed for a few days. We ran out of blood from the hospital and I've just been...distracted." His voice came out halting and unsure; he did not sound like himself in the least. He expected Elena to be more repulsed by him than she already was.

Instead, she said, "That was completely irresponsible of you, to let her draw your blood, knowing you had little to spare." Her eyes were troubled. "Where else did she bite you?"

Damon was silent, clenching his jaw.

Never breaking eye contact with him, Elena moved closer to him, and gripped the hem of his black button-up shirt. Carefully, she lifted it a few inches. She could see the mark, an indent right at his hip, just where his jeans dipped down. She pressed her lips together tightly, lowering his shirt as she met his eyes.

Damon felt as though he might start trembling again, just from the sensation of her hands on his body. "Elena...it was just sex."

She looked at him strangely. "Don't defend yourself, Damon. You don't have to; especially not to me. I'm more concerned about the fact that you haven't fed. You need your strength – you know this." She bit her lip nervously, unable to comprehend what she was about to do. "Take my blood." And she said it so _casually_. Was she _possessed_?

Her hands automatically flew to her neck and she found that she was still wearing her vervain necklace. So the crazy was all her. But that necklace; a fleeting image pushed fuzzily at the edges of her mind.

The moment the words left her lips, Damon was on the other side of the room, staring at her with wide eyes. "Are you out of your _mind, _Elena?" Every nerve in his body was on red alert – never had he received such an enticing offer in his life, and never had he expected Elena to be the one to offer it.

"Damon, you need blood." Elena shook herself out of her musings and stood up, and started walking towards him now. He unsuccessfully tried to keep his distance behind a table piled high with books.

"That's irresponsible of _you_, Elena. Not only could I not take advantage of you like that, but Stefan would _know_." Damon's eyes had iced over again, as soon as Stefan's name had left his lips. Just like Stefan would know about the kiss; there was no way Elena would try and keep that secret.

"So it's okay for me to kiss you, but it's not okay for you to take my blood?" Elena countered. Yes, Stefan would know if she gave Damon her blood – but surely he would understand. _Just like he'll understand that you clung to his brother like a starved lover, joined at the lips_? argued her ever-present logical thoughts.

"Correct. And those are two entirely different things." Damon could feel the walls coming up again. He needed to keep his emotions in check.

"Damon, I _trust _you. And I'm sorry, but you look awful."

Elena stood in front of him now and he had closed his eyes to try and block her out. This night was becoming a bit too much for him. He thought he had reached his breaking point with that kiss, but this would end him. "You don't understand, Elena; sharing blood with you would be like... –" He couldn't finish the sentence, but he was sure that she could.

"You wanted me to kiss you; I want you to take my blood. I say that's perfectly fair." Elena was so close that she could smell him; cinnamon, whiskey, and citrus. He was absolutely _enticing_.

"Since when did this become some sort of sick bargain?" he whispered hoarsely. His heart twisted painfully in his chest. If he took her blood, having the feelings for her that he did...all hell could break loose.

Elena did something she never would have imagined doing before tonight; she stood on her tip toes and kissed the trembling mess that was Damon Salvatore without any prompt or invitation. It was a short, sweet kiss, but it was enough to send him over the edge again.

"You're really giving me mixed signals here, Elena," Damon said softly, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach after her lips left his.

"I'm sorry," Elena said softly. She couldn't stop gazing at him as over and over again, she imagined what his reaction would be to her telling him that she loved him.

But she c_ouldn't _tell him.

And he c_ouldn't _tell her – again.

The two gazed steadily at each other.

Elena gathered her long dark hair in her hands and pushed it over to one side of her body, exposing her creamy white neck. "Take it, Damon," she told him softly. "You won't hurt me." What the hell was she doing, anyway? Things had spun out of control so fast; yet, she didn't regret them. "You need to heal those bite marks," she added hastily. They _bothered_ her.

Damon reached for her, then, and pulled her against his chest. The Damon of not too long ago probably would have already ripped into her throat – without her permission.

What were they doing? They were playing with fire – first that damned kiss, and now _this_? It wouldn't be long before he could no longer contain his undead emotions.

Damon licked his lips, which had suddenly become inexplicably dry, and then he lowered his mouth to her neck. He encircled his arms around her waist and held her there steadily as he pressed his lips chastely to her. He could feel her pulse raising wildly beneath his eager mouth.

Elena gripped the fabric of his shirt, trembling in anticipation.

"Relax," he murmured against her flushed skin. He had made a decision – and whether he was going to regret it or not, he didn't know. When she did relax, he opened his mouth part way and allowed his tongue to snake out and sneak a taste of that skin.

Elena, surprisingly, murmured only encouragement to him.

Drawing a deep breath, Damon allowed his fangs to come down as he lowered his mouth and bit.

Elena gasped, tightening her hold on him as his fangs pierced her skin. She could feel them go in smoothly; could feel his warm breath against her as he began to draw her blood out. And it didn't hurt. It felt..._good_.

Damon was in heaven. She tasted sweeter than he had ever imagined and she held so still for it; so pliant and warm and – _oh_. Her blood was like sweet nectar. Stars exploded behind his closed eyes as he drew it slowly, one arm around her waist, the other stroking her hair softly. It slid down his throat with ease and he had never had a more pleasurable experience.

He suspected it was because of their emotional connection. But right now, he could _feel _her _physical_ reactions. She had made a small noise of contentment, pressing herself dangerously close against his already wired body. And when her hand reached up to grip the back of his head, he nearly lost it.

Elena felt something warm spread through her body; it started in her belly and moved up and down through her limbs, causing her to groan softly.

Damon heard that sound and immediately retracted his fangs, his body trembling with pleasure. "Oh, my God, Elena," he whimpered softly, panting into her hair. His physical desire for her after _that _was becoming extremely evident.

Elena looked up at him and saw the deep flush in his cheeks and the small sparkle in his blue eyes and she thought that he had never looked more beautiful; that no one had ever been that beautiful. "You didn't hurt me," she told him, reaching up to stroke that warm cheek. Her other hand pressed to the side of her throat, feeling the puncture wounds. They tingled.

Damon swallowed hard. "I know...it's just..." He was having a hard time forming words. He took a calming breath and looked at her again, bracing himself against the wall. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming at him to sink his teeth into her neck again. But even stronger than that desire was the fact that his body was begging him to get close to her again, to feel her pressed against him.

Good God, he was aroused beyond belief.

Elena studied him. She had never seen him look so positively _stunned_. "Damon, what's going on?"

"Elena," he said through clenched teeth, reaching up to grip her hand tightly, "sometimes, when vampires take the blood of someone who they're...very emotionally invested in...then it's like..." He paused, swallowing hard. When had he become so _shy_? "Then it's like sex," he finally finished.

Elena flushed and backed away slightly. She had never experienced that with Stefan; he had refused to drink her blood until recently, and he was only doing that out of pure necessity. When she gathered the strength to look at Damon again, she couldn't help but notice that he looked positively _ravished_.

His dark hair stuck up wildly, and his full lips still contained a few droplets of her blood. His cheeks and neck were rosy, from the newly acquired blood and the excitement of the moment. His mouth was slightly parted as he panted lightly, breathing in and out unsteadily.

And best of all, the mark on his neck was gone. For some reason, it had made Elena feel..._uncomfortable_, knowing that Rose had left it there. Then something occurred to her as she took in his clearly aroused state; heavy breathing, hand clutched against his stomach.

"Did you...?" Her wide eyes unintentionally dropped down.

Damon raised an eyebrow, confused. "Did I w_hat_?"

"Did you..." She mumbled the rest so quietly that human ears wouldn't have been able to hear it, but Damon sure did. And her question actually made _him_, of all God damn humans – or vampires...or whatever – _blush_ in embarrassment.

"No!" he countered, shocked. "Just because it's _like s_ex doesn't meant it _is_...and dear God! I have...more stamina than that!" He didn't know why he was being so defensive but he couldn't help it. Elena was the only girl who could undo his years of hard work on his outward appearance.

"Sorry," Elena mumbled. She shyly met his eyes.

Damon finally calmed down from the blood rush. What were they doing, anyway? He had already experienced so many emotions in one night – sadness, anger, love, lust, happiness – he didn't know if he could stand to feel anymore. He hadn't felt this much since Katherine and well...everyone knew how that one turned out for him.

He straightened himself up. "It works the other way, too. If you drink my blood, even if you're not a vampire...then it can make you feel...good. And it can link our minds." His steady blue gaze held her soft eyes.

Elena studied him for a moment – he only seemed to be casually relaying information, but underneath that, something in his tone positively burned. She stared hard then frowned, taking a few steps back again. "I've had your blood before, Damon. _Remember_?"

Damon's icy eyes glazed over for a moment as he recalled that day; his search for the Grimoire had been exhausting. And then...when he saw Stefan and Elena there, already clutching that which he needed to free Katherine...

Elena had betrayed him.

Just like that _bitch _had, as he would later find out.

In anger, he had grabbed Elena and demanded the Grimoire in exchange for her. And then he had ripped open his wrist and forced the blood down her throat, ensuring that if Stefan tried anything tricky, she would be dead and then worse – a _vampire_.

Would he have even been able to it? At that point, he had started to genuinely care for her; otherwise, her breach of trust wouldn't have mattered so much.

Damon blinked his eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Elena," he said slowly. "I...I literally just _lost_ it."

Elena looked at him in bewilderment, and then said softly, "It's okay. I know how much I hurt you that day." She sighed softly. "What are we _doing_, Damon?" She was close to him again, caressing the back of her hand up and down his arm, unable to stop herself from touching him.

"I don't know," Damon replied. And he didn't. His feelings were a mess. Kisses, blood...it was all too much. And Stefan...what would he even _think_? He had to end this, right now, before he lost even more control than he already had. He took her hand and led her back to the fireplace, where the flames had ebbed slightly.

"Damon," Elena said quietly, reaching a decision yourself. "Let me take some of your blood."

"Elena...is that...a good idea?"

"Frankly, I don't care if it is or not...but if we're being practical about it, then...we have to get rid of the marks on my neck now, too."

Damon winced, studying here. Yes, they were quite visible. And that was a logical decision; if she had some of his blood, the marks would heal quickly. He brought his wrist to his mouth but she grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"No," she said softly, her eyes burning a hole through his. "_Here_." She touched his throat so gently that he shivered and swallowed hard.

"I need something to cut myself with," Damon answered, his voice clearly strained.

Elena reached into her back pocket and produced a small Swiss Army knife. It was a small one, of the simplest variety. She handed it to Damon, who looked surprised.

"Why do you have this?"

"You never know," Elena coyly replied. She watched as he opened it and flicked out the blade.

Damon carefully brought the sharp tip to his neck and nicked it. Elena saw him wince as he dropped the knife to the floor. Blood welled up in the cut.

Elena moved towards him, almost ghostlike, and very gently, pulled his head down to hers. She kissed his lips again and noted with some slight satisfaction that he had closed his eyes. She hesitantly began to kiss him along his jaw line until her lips finally found his throat.

Finding him utterly tense, she slid her other hand up his shirt and began to caress his warm, taut skin. He felt _amazing_. She never wanted to take her hands off of him.

Damon inhaled sharply at the feel of Elena's hand caressing his abdomen; his sides. _Hell_, he thought frantically, _I'm going to Hell! _And he almost didn't care, as long as her hand never stopped touching him so divinely.

Elena smiled lightly against his skin and then lowered her mouth to the wound. _Here goes nothing_...


	3. Burn

Hello, everyone! Once again, thank you for the _wonderful_ feedback! I deeply appreciate it. : ) I'm sorry that this took so long to post – end of term for me and things are _crazy_. With that said, my other stories, _Push _and _Shadow Dance _won't be updated until the end of the week...I really hope I can get the newest chapters out for those by at least Saturday.

Anyway, here's part three of a predicted four (maybe five – haven't quite decided yet) part fic! : ) Please review and tell me what you think – it's so helpful and always encouraging!

Warnings for this chapter: Blood-play, a few 'f' bombs, and some...er...really intense touching. ; )

Enjoy!

* * *

Fire  
Part III: Burn

_Shadows pulling me along with you  
When the moonlight sings  
The darkness brings me back to die with you  
I've given all my life to be with you  
My heart is waiting and breaking to return to burn with you tonight_

-We Are The Fallen, "Burn"

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* * *

_

Elena's lips touched his neck gently, as she opened her mouth around the puncture wound and began to suck softly. Her eyes fluttered closed. She had never intentionally tasted someone's blood before, but as the red liquid flowed easily into her mouth, she found herself thinking that it wasn't bad at all – that it was _erotic_.

She wasn't a vampire, but she could understand the appeal of blood – it was a _life force _– and that Damon would trust her enough to let her take his _only_ _life force_ – well, that truly spoke volumes about how far he had come since she first met him.

And aside from that, Damon's blood didn't taste like blood; it was warm, sweet, and slightly fragrant – like a fine wine. It slid down her throat smoothly, warming her entire body. After the first few drops settled, something incredible happened.

Elena could feel every single one of his _feelings _rush at her at full force, and it nearly knocked her off her feet. Her hand stilled on his bare stomach. Shocked, she opened her eyes and noticed that his were closed, and that he was scarcely breathing. He clutched her waist tightly with both hands, his head slightly lowered so that she could actually reach his throat. He was so _still_.

She felt a blast of yearning score through her as their _souls_ connected, lighting her on fire. She was nearly drowning in flames when she gasped against his skin and heard him make a strangled noise. His hands tightened around her as she experienced blast after blast of overwhelming emotions – sadness, happiness, lust – _love_?

"Don't stop," Damon murmured, his voice tight. She fastened her mouth to his skin once again and moved her hands further up his shirt. She could feel the muscles of his chest and stomach strain and relax at the softest touch of her hand, and by God, those were _some _muscles.

Damon was frightened of the euphoria which consumed his thoughts, loosened his control, and allowed her to embrace his existence. Their connection was astounding; never had sharing blood been this powerful between him and another person. It was almost enough to tear him to pieces.

Elena could feel him shaking as she continued to withdraw his life force. Right now, there was no doubt about who was in control. Gently stroking one finger down the center of his chest, she whispered, "What do you _need_, Damon?" Her tongue touched his throat again, lapping at the blood as its flow slowed. She removed her hands from under his shirt and rested them on either side of his hips.

Damon's hands shook as he moved them to caress her hair, letting the silky strands sift between his fingers. He wanted a lot of things, but there was only one thing that he truly needed, even if it was for this moment, which was slipping past him too fast.

"You," he whispered roughly. He pulled her head away from his neck and bent to kiss her. He could taste his own blood on her lips, but that didn't stop him. His body was aching, vibrating, stinging. He groaned softly into Elena's mouth when she uncharacteristically and aggressively tightened her grip on his hips and pressed them right up against hers.

_Friction._

And then suddenly, neither of them could think, only _feel_ and it felt _good_.

Damon was melting. He didn't know if it was possible to melt, but he was – into a puddle, right at her feet, as she touched him so gently, yet so precisely. "_Yes_," he groaned softly when she backed him into the wall, pressing their bodies even tighter together.

His blood was making her do things that she would otherwise not do; it was screwing with her head as she pinned Damon to the wall and attacked his mouth. He was returning it with the same vigorous _need_ and she wondered why – _how _– they had not done this before ever.

The touch of their souls was enough to light the entire _world _on fire.

Damon was going to combust. His skin was crawling with heat. He had his mouth attached to Elena's, which had opened wide to let his tongue slip in. His hands had come up to grasp her head and hers were still on his waist, holding him there and then one of them was on his thigh and suddenly –

"_Fuck_!"

Elena heard the expletive leave Damon's full-lipped sweet-talking mouth and gasped. It was so uncharacteristic that it shocked her and she dropped her hands and pulled her mouth away from his, finally catching her breath as she took in his appearance – _wild_. His eyes were wide, mouth red and swollen and disbelief on his own face at what he had uttered.

"Damon?" she asked timidly, afraid that they had started something that they would never be able to stop.

"I..." Words escaped him. That was not the kind of word he used around a lady – no, scratch that. It was not the kind of word he used around _Elena _, especially if that word was being used to denote the kind of pleasure she was giving him. Good God, if he had ever said that to a lady in 1864... "Sorry," he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. What the hell had come over him? He didn't usually care if his language offended people, but after all...he had been raised as a southern gentleman.

Elena's eyes lightened a bit – she was morbidly curious to know how she, of all people, could get these kinds of reactions from Damon. Looking straight at him, and without saying a word in reply to his apology, feeling reckless and without regard for consequences, she had her hand between his thighs again.

His head snapped up as he inhaled sharply and went to move her hand, placing his over hers. He was about to open his mouth and tell her that this entire situation wasn't a good idea...

...and then Elena said something that made his mouth go dry; his senses dulled considerably, so that they were only a slight roar in his ears.

"Let me touch you, Damon." Never breaking eye contact, Elena didn't wait for his permission. She began to caress him lightly through his jeans. _Have I lost my mind_? Elena thought desperately as she watched his head drop against the wall, eyes rolling back in his head, lips parted. The words left Elena's mouth before she had time to even think them over, realize their implications or anything of the sort. "Does _this_" – she trailed her hand along his jean-clad thigh, "feel _good_?"

Damon groaned softly. He was going to collapse. Or faint.

He wondered briefly what the hell Elena would think of him if he fainted.

What was she doing? She knew Damon had feelings for her – that much was obvious – but she didn't know how deep they ran. So, here she was, selfishly leading him on without a second thought.

He knew he shouldn't do it, even as he tentatively reached out his arm and brought her close to him, trailing his own hand down to the apex of her thighs. He began to return her ministrations, slowly stroking her through her jeans. Her hand momentarily stilled on him. He lowered his head to capture her lips, still touching her. _God, this is so wrong, it's right. Why do I have to be so selfish?_

"Damon!" she cried out softly. Her body had begun to crave his in a way that she had never craved Stefan's. She needed to feel him, skin on skin, pressed against the hard muscles of his body –

Wait. Stefan. _Stefan_. _Whom you came to see, remember?_ Elena's thoughts finally broke through her lust induced mind as she regarded Damon with a look that could only be described as _feral_.

Her heart stuttered. "Damon," she said gently, as she first removed her hand from him then gently pushed his own away. She looked down at the floor, "We need to stop." Hallelujah for the first rational thought of the evening.

The spark that had been in Damon's eyes flew out. "Yes...we do." Guilt washed over him. "I'm sorry, Elena, I don't know how I lost control so easily." But he did know. He tried to calm his irregular breathing, clear his head. What the hell had just happened? He reached out a hand, touching her face. "My actions this evening have been marked by nothing but disgrace."

She trembled. "It's not your fault, Damon. You weren't the only one who lost control."

Why couldn't she stop looking at him? Why did she want to _touch _him so bad?

A voice in the back of her head laughed. _You are in __**love**__ with him, Elena. And even though you think that never telling him would be for the best...keeping it all pent up inside is going to make you feel even worse._

The tears started rolling down Elena's cheeks. "Damon," she choked out, her lustful, playful mood suddenly gone. She had reached for his hand desperately and squeezed it. Maybe she was dizzy from the lack of blood loss, or freaked out by the revelations that wouldn't stop coming to her.

_I love Stefan so much that it hurts_

_...but I love Damon so much that it bleeds._

"What is it, Elena?" Damon felt nauseous. "Are you okay? Did I take too much blood before? Did I hurt you?" he demanded. O, God. He was sincerely _fucked_ up when it came to Elena. He needed to get a handle on himself. How could he have been so stupid? He was about to open his mouth again, but a finger on his lips silenced him.

"Damon, I can only say this once because it's going to be the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life." Tears streamed down Elena's face as she tried to brace herself for the words.

Damon froze, his hand going limp in hers, as he heard his own words repeated back to him. He felt like he was going to choke, faint, gag – _something_. His air supply had been cut off and he couldn't get out the words that he wanted to say to her.

Elena smiled – briefly – through her tears, as she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. Then she wove her fingers through his with one hand, bringing their hands up to rest against her chest. She reached up to pull his head slightly down with the other as she trailed her fingers over those beautiful, full lips.

Damon was frozen to the spot, tightly clutching her hand again. He felt her breath at his ear, heart trembling as he waited.

As tears continued to slide down her face, Elena pressed her lips to his cheek and very softly murmured to him, "I love you, Damon."

The last of the ice around Damon's heart evaporated as a feeling so scorching – so pleasant - so _beautiful _– coursed through his body – his mind – his _soul_ – consuming every unpleasant thought or feeling he had ever had.

He lowered his face to her neck, crying with her.

Because he knew that he couldn't tell her that he loved her, too.


	4. Smoulder

Oh, wonderful reviewers – thou art magnifique! 68! I can't even believe it – thank you _so _much! Your kind words and encouragement mean everything to this wannabe-writer. :) I'm so glad that you seem enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. So, thank you once again and please continue to let me know what you think! :)

With that said...here is part four! And after writing it, I'm pretty sure that the chapter after this will be the last. A natural end has been building up for a while now, so I do hope you'll return to see how it plays out!

And one more thought before the story...did any of you watch "The Sacrifice"?

Oh. My. _GOD_. I swear that television does not get any better than that! There were so many _moments_! Sigh...sadly, next week is the last new episode until January 27th!

Anyway...continue onward! Feel free to share your thoughts on episode ten in your review. ; )

* * *

Fire  
Part IV: Smoulder

_I can't resist it  
You come out suffocating  
On your shoulder  
You can smoulder  
You come out suffocating  
You come out suffocating  
Suffocating  
You come out suffocating  
Suffocating_

-Magic Dirt, "Smoulder"

_Love that will not betray you,  
dismay or enslave you,  
It will set you free  
Be more like the man  
you were made to be.  
There is a design,  
An alignment to cry,  
At my heart you see,  
The beauty of love  
as it was made to be_

-Mumford & Sons, "Sigh No More"

* * *

For the second time that night, Elena and Damon held each other as if the universe had shattered into a million tiny pieces around them, and that they were the only two beings left to salvage what they could from the wreckage. This time, though, they were not silent, for they knew the extent of their heartbreak.

Damon crushed her to his chest, his head still buried in her neck. He trembled, unable to contain the flood of emotions that were breaking through his carefully constructed barriers; someone _loved_ him – _Elena _loved him. For the first time, he experienced what it meant to have someone says those words to him and truly _mean_ it and he would never trade that feeling - even as it was tearing him apart and shattering his soul – for _anything _in the world; even life.

Elena sobbed openly into Damon's chest. The words had to be said, even if he was incapable of returning them. It didn't matter; all that mattered was his shaking body pressed so close to hers, her fingernails digging into his back, and the quiet, breathless whimpers that he seemed unable to tame. God, how she wanted to heal him. And maybe she was, in her own destructive way. Her words had broken him completely, leaving him undeniably bared to her, and now that the wall was gone, maybe he could finally work on repairing over a century of damage.

She could _feel_ his unspoken reciprocation radiating through her clothes, skin, and straight to her bleeding heart. She knew what it was like to love and be loved – she loved Stefan and Stefan loved her – but the love she felt for Damon was passionate and all-consuming; otherwise, she wouldn't be clinging to him like this, desperately needing him to s_ay_ something.

Damon struggled. He wanted to tell her his feelings so very badly, but one thing stood in the way, blocking him.

_Stefan_.

Elena deserved someone good and pure and kind like Stefan – not someone bad and tainted and antagonistic like himself. His soul was tormented and he couldn't put that on Elena. He had told her that on the night that he had confessed his love for her. He, Damon, did not deserve the angel Elena in any way, shape, or form.

_Or_, said the voice in the back of his head, _you're still too afraid to let her completely in. Has tonight taught you nothing?_

Damon choked back a sob as a slow born encased his limbs and he suddenly became a man desperate for water, the elixir of human life, to satiate his all-powerful thirst.

That sound alone nearly crushed Elena, for it was the sound of both revelation and heartbreak.

Elena pulled her head away from his heaving chest and he slowly raised his from her neck. The two observed each other's tear streaked faces and filling eyes. And then Elena, so gently, as was in her nature, lifted her hand to Damon's face and carefully thumbed the remaining tears away.

Damon gazed into her calming, albeit watery, brown eyes. Those eyes could dissolve the hardest of granite. He took into account her slightly tousled hair and glowing cheeks, cherry-red lips. God, he didn't deserve to even be standing near her.

She was beautiful, ethereal, and exquisite.

And he was broken, damaged, and tortured.

"You can trust me, sweetheart," Elena murmured softly, the endearment rolling smoothly off of her tongue, as she composed herself. She stroked his cheek slowly, just barely grazing his heated skin.

Something overtook Damon; perhaps a new kind of determination. Who was he to keep something she needed to know from her? How would he feel if she had done it? "Elena," he whispered brokenly, finally resolved, "I'm sorry."

And as Damon made that snap decision, Elena was scorched so hard with a blast of his power that she thought for a split second that she might _die_. But then, in her mind's eye, she could feel the stinging pain and see the look of pure heartbreak distort his handsome features. And she could hear the tremble in his voice as he whispered to her in hushed, melodic tones, "_I need to say it once. You need to hear it. I love you, Elena._"

Elena gasped as the memory flooded her, icy fire burning in her veins. "Damon? God..." And suddenly she could feel what she had felt as he said those words; they crashed into her hard, leaving her absolutely breathless. She remembered her eyes welling as she listened to him in silence, wanting nothing more than to say something – _anything _– in reply to his heart-wrenching confession.

Her soul had _ached _for him. She remembered, standing there, wanting to tell him that it would be all right; that she cared for him, and that she trusted him, and that he should trust her, too.

That maybe she loved him, too.

She had not wanted to forget it.

Because it was _beautiful_ and _enlightening_ and _deep_...

...and then he had put her into that reluctant sleep...

...as a lone tear fell from an icy blue eye...

...and she had no choice but to comply.

"I thought I was protecting you. But it turns out I'm more selfish than ever. God...I..." Damon could feel them coming again, those damned tears that showed the world how vulnerable he really was. "I needed to say it...foolishly thinking it would take away my pain."

He took a steady breath as he levelled himself with Elena's shocked face. He placed his hands on either side of her head and said quietly, "I love you, Elena. And that's why I had to let you go."

He had erased her memories, but she understood why he had done it more than he could possibly know.

"Damon," Elena whispered fiercely as she grasped him at the wrists, "don't let me go." She leaned forward and captured his lips in an act of near-desperation. Suddenly, _nothing _mattered to her – only that _she _couldn't let _him_ go.

And that scared her more than anything in her entire life ever had.


	5. Ash

Wow, guys! Thank you, once again, for the awesome feedback...sadly, this is the last part! Phew...can't believe it, either! I hope you enjoy it...please review and let me know. Also, be sure to check out my note at the end for some of my thoughts on writing it! : )

Enjoy!

* * *

Fire  
Part V: Ash

_Now watch me rise up and leave all the ashes you made out of me  
When you said that we were wrong, life goes on, look how wrong I could be  
Now watch me rise up and leave all the ashes you made out of me  
When you said that we were wrong, life goes on, you blew me away_

-Embrace, "Ashes"

* * *

Damon kissed Elena as he had never kissed anyone; he _needed _her and he needed to demonstrate that. Fire flashed through him, leaving his sensitive nerve-endings charred, but they healed quickly – only to be singed again.

He would not let her go – if he did, he would fall apart and it was guaranteed that he would never be able to put himself together again. He had only been able to recreate himself after Katherine because he knew – somewhere, deep down – that she did not love him at all. But Elena loved him. Losing someone who loved one in return was far more painful than losing someone for whom the love was unrequited.

Damon would burn in a fire a million times over if it meant he could be with Elena.

"I _love_ you," Elena whispered roughly against his mouth, still grasping his wrists. "I _need _you." She let go of his arms and snaked one arm around his waist. She brought her hand up to his hair, tangling it in his fine, silky strands.

Damon moaned softly when he felt her gently sucking on his bottom lip. "I know, Elena...I finally _know_." He wrapped his arms around her waist and suddenly they were tangled up in each other, almost too close for the allowance of proper breathing.

They stood locked together, taking each other in, exhaling deep, heaving breaths.

Damon swallowed hard, gazing at her with a relaxed, peaceful expression. "You've taught me more about love in the last hour than I've learned in a lifetime."

Elena pecked his lips and leaned close, kissing him right above the collar bone. "You deserve to be loved, Damon; you have so much to give in return that others have been too blind to see...including myself." Her warm breath trickled slowly over his skin, causing him to shiver.

He lowered his eyes, his long dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. "That...means a lot to me, Elena."

When Elena met his eyes again, they seemed different; lighter somehow, and she couldn't help but think that's how they had looked in 1864, before Katherine had appeared.

"I know...I know we have a lot to figure out, and I know that this isn't going to be easy, but...I have one request," Damon said softly, leaning down to brush his lips over her forehead.

"What is it?" Elena whispered, cupping his cheek. She could not stop touching him. She needed him to know that she wanted him more than anything she had ever wanted in her life. Breathing deeply, she inhaled that unique scent of his again, and wondered briefly what it would feel like to have his bare skin pressed to her bare skin...

She came out of her reverie as Damon stroked her neck with the barest graze of the back of his knuckles.

"Could you just sit with me by the fire for a little while? I would love nothing more than to hold you in my arms..." Damon smiled at her; not an ironic sarcastic smile, but a genuine one that seemed to be coming up from the depths of his soul. A smile like that was very suited for his handsome face.

"Of course," Elena murmured. She returned his smile and nearly blushed when he took her hand and lead her to the rug in front of the fire place. They sat, and as he promised he would, he gathered her in his arms and held her tightly to his chest.

She could _feel _him and he could _feel _her. Her intense connection to Damon was going to make it so hard to tell Stefan. She loved Stefan...of course, she did. She was still _in _love with Stefan.

But her love for Damon was overwhelming.

And if she truly did love Stefan, as she claimed she did, she would let him go.

"Isn't fire harmful to you?" Elena whispered after a long while of comfortable silence, watching the flames dance; leaping gracefully over and through the gnarled wood, consuming it one moment, and embracing it the next.

"Yes," Damon answered carefully, stroking her hair, "but sometimes I just like to watch it burn."

* * *

Outside, the earth swayed and moved underneath Stefan's feet.

He had heard everything. _Everything_.

Anger had blinded him and he had intended to march right into the house and throw Damon to the wolves. He wasn't a selfish person by any means, but this betrayal...it was too much. He knew that Elena loved him, and he had known for some time that she also loved Damon, but for to come here and do _this _to him.

Stefan could feel his heart ripping. Never in his eternal life had he felt a pain so intensified. He wanted to break down and cry, but he knew that it would accomplish nothing. He had returned early from hunting with Rose, and she had put her hand up to stop him from entering the boarding house.

And then they had listened to the intense, private conversations taking place within.

The green-eyed vampire hissed through his teeth and took a deep breath, intending to dissolve the situation, but Rose grabbed his arms and held him stationary; that woman was _strong_.

"Stefan," she said softly. "Let them have their moment."

Stefan stared blankly at her.

Rose turned her eyes guiltily to the ground. "I will fix the situation, but only because you need time to think about how you will cope when their souls find each other again. Do you understand? There are workings in this universe more powerful than you can imagine, and I don't think Armageddon would stop those two from being together some day," she finished softly.

But really, Rose had her own selfish reasons for the delay; Damon and Elena could not be distracting to themselves or others while the battle with the Originals raged on. She had been running for centuries and now she was about to get a chance to save herself – finally – and she was not going to let this uncontrollable, passionate force that was Damon and Elena's love stand between her and freedom.

Rose knew that their love could put them all in danger; could jeopardize them.

She did feel sorry for Stefan, but right now, she was looking out for herself – though she would not let him know that.

Stefan took a steadying breath, feeling a few tears slip from his eyes before he angrily wiped them away. "And just how do you think you'll be able to do that, Rose?"

Rose smiled gently at him. "I have a few powers of my own that I've been keeping secret, Stefan. But now it's time to use one of them."

A gentle breeze blew through Stefan's thin shirt, causing him to shiver. "And what power is that?"

"I can compel other vampires so long as they are younger than me," Rose said softly, looking into the lighted window.

Stefan was silent for a moment before finally answering, "I am the most selfish person I know."

"It's okay, Stefan." Rose turned a sad, knowing smile on him. "We all do crazy things for love, don't we?"

"I suppose we do," Stefan murmured softly, finally cutting his hearing off to the private conversation within the brick walls of the house. He turned away, body tense. "I need to leave for a little while." As he took off, he could hear nothing but the dull, deafening silence which slowly enveloped him, choking the life from him.

* * *

"Please, oh, God, please don't!" Damon begged the centuries-old vampire. He had never begged for anything in his entire existence; not even his _own _life.

Elena lay deeply asleep on the floor, curled up in the spot where she had been dozing in Damon's arms before Rose had made her appearance.

Damon had stood, gently lowering Elena. He approached Rose, curious at first. But the curiosity had slowly turned to a torturous pain.

Calmly, Rose explained to Damon what she and Stefan had heard; that she must erase his memory in order to stand a chance of success against the Originals. The emotions involved were too strong and could ruin everything.

Throughout their quiet, heated argument, Elena stayed soundly asleep.

"I'm sorry, Damon," Rose told him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. "But this needs to be done." She very gently pulled his trembling form close to her, and brushed messy bangs away from his eyes.

"It's all I have, Rose," Damon whispered brokenly. He could feel his soul being torn. Not again – he could not stand to go through this ordeal _again_. Rose...she was about to commit some act against the universe, by compelling him to forget, to take his memories.

And he suddenly knew what some of those whom he had done it to had felt like. Like Elena. He swallowed hard and fought his trembling body until it was still.

"I know, sweetheart. And I promise that you'll get it back." Rose steadied her hand in his hair and then forced him to look at her.

"I love her," Damon said softly, the words falling from his lips like wilted flower petals.

"I know," Rose said again, "and no matter what I do to you, I could never make you forget that. You've shown numerous acts of selflessness tonight – you need to do it once more and I promise you that someday, you'll get these memories back."

Damon knew it was useless to run. She was older and so much stronger. So he just stood there, body limp, as Rose gazed deeply into his eyes, and very quietly whispered, "You will forget everything that happened tonight, from when you returned home, until now. You know that you love Elena, but you know that you can't act on it because it is selfish and it would hurt Stefan and our chances of defeating Klaus. You are selfless and you will continue to protect those you know and love."

Rose paused, watching Damon's pupils dilated, and added, "Elena came to see Stefan, but he wasn't here. You told her she could stay the night and offered her the couch. After this, you will fall into a deep sleep. Forget tonight, Damon. _Forget_."

Damon's eyes, which had slowly been welling with tears, spilled over, the droplets running down his pale, drawn face. "I will forget tonight," he said in a hushed tone, the words leaving his lips completely against his will. Everything around him was _blank_ – surroundings, mind, soul – _blank_. It was white and it was void.

"Yes," Rose murmured and then released him.

Damon moved slowly to one of the couches by the fireplace and lay down on it. He closed his eyes, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of falling from several stories, and then he was asleep; dragged down into a place where he wasn't sure that he could crawl back up from.

Just like that, in a heartbeat, it was over.

Rose moved to Elena's sleeping form and very carefully unclasped her vervain necklace, without hesitation. For Rose, when it came to compelling someone, that person did not have to be awake or conscious when she did it. "You will forget that you admitted your love for Damon, Elena, but you won't forget that you love him. You will forget everything that happened here tonight. You came to see Stefan and he wasn't here. You were so tired that you fell asleep on the couch. You know that you can't let anything distract you until the Originals are dealt with. Sleep, Elena, until morning, and forget tonight."

Rose sighed softly and reclosed the necklace around Elena's neck. She picked up the sleeping girl and gently placed her on the couch adjacent to Damon's.

After that was done, Rose shook her head and walked toward the door. She needed some air. As she looked back at the sleeping pair, though, she couldn't help but think...

..._the mind forgets, but not the heart. _

She closed the door quietly behind her, contemplating the night's sins.

* * *

In the dark, Elena's heart pounded against her chest as she waited, making completely sure that Rose was gone. She was trying so hard not to cry. Her soul was rising up in her throat, clawing at her insides, trying to get out, trying to deny what had just happened.

Tucked away inconspicuously in the bottom of her left shoe was the barest and smallest sprig of vervain, which she had only put there the night before, scared that another vampire might rip off her necklace and compel her. And it seemed that she had been right to have that fear.

She stood up, dizzily, her mind unable to catch up with her heart. She went to Damon and watched the shadows flicker over his face before brushing her fingertips over his cheek.

"No!" she sobbed when the gravity of the situation hit her. She buried her face in his chest. She knew he wouldn't awake because of the sleep that Rose had put him in. Everything that they had shared...it was all gone – at least for him.

She didn't _care _if he would get his memories back eventually – she needed him to have them _now_. God, she _needed_ him and he had been _ripped_ from her. She knew that she could just tell him that she loved him again, and that he would probably return the sentiments...but...

No. It was gone. This moment had been once in a lifetime and now it was gone; _stolen_ from them.

Elena willed herself to be calm as she stared at his beautiful, sleeping face. His mouth was set in a frown. One hand supported his head, resting under his cheek. She noticed that he was shivering slightly, so she pulled the blanket that was hanging down from the couch onto his body, spreading it over him evenly. She sat beside him, feeling his warmth and how wonderful it felt. Brushing her fingers through his hair, she leaned down and kissed his earlobe.

"I love you, Damon Salvatore – and it's _always_ going to be you." Elena knew that he hadn't heard her, but she felt him move instinctively closer to her. She fought back another wave of tears as she continued stroking his hair softly.

Determination welled up in her chest. They would get through this – they were strong. Rose had given her an opportunity to sort things out with Stefan first; to deal with Klaus and make sure all of the people whom she loved and cared about were safe.

She couldn't be selfish. Not with this. This was a second chance to make everything right before she gave herself over to him; before they were allowed to love each completely and wholly, and without limits and fears.

Trembling, Elena lowered her lips to his, so gently, and so chastely, before whispering, "Come back to me when you can." For a millisecond, she could hear his heartbeat drumming in synch with hers, and then it was silent.

The fading flames of the once roaring fire illuminated her tear-streaked face and soft brown eyes before finally burning out completely, turning everything in its destructive path to dusty ash.

* * *

_All those words came undone and now I'm not the only one_  
_Facing the ghosts that decide if the fire inside still burns_

_All I have, all I need, he's the air I would kill to breathe_  
_Holds my love in his hands, still I'm searching for something_  
_Out of breath, I am left hoping someday I'll breathe again_  
_I'll breathe again_

_Open up next to you and my secrets become your truth_  
_And the distance between that was sheltering me comes in full view_  
_Hang my head, break my heart built from all I have torn apart_  
_And my burden to bear is a love I can't carry anymore_

_All I have, all I need, he's the air I would kill to breathe_  
_Holds my love in his hands, still I'm searching for something_

_Out of breath, I am left hoping someday I'll breathe again_

-Sara Bareilles, "Breathe Again"

_Fin_

_

* * *

_

Well, there you have it! Thank you so much for all of your support & kind words! You guys are awesome! : ) Obviously, I left it slightly open so that I could write a sequel in the future (time permitting). I know that some of the stuff in here isn't canon (like Rose having the ability to compel other vampires), but that's why its fan-fiction and creative liberties are expected, no? ; )

People familiar with the books probably noticed that I drew a lot from the portrayal of Elena & Damon in those, as well as from the television show. I kind of meshed the personalities from the book with the personalities from the TV show – hope you still you liked it anyway! Also, if you haven't read the books – do it! They're _awesome_!

And lastly, I really wanted to have a scene in this story where Damon & Elena consummate their love, but I didn't want to change the rating. But what say you to an extra, 'M' rated scene, posted as a one-shot? : ) The scene would take place sometime in chapter 3. Anyway, if I get enough people saying that they want this (15?), then I will post it.

Thanks, friends! Have a wonderful week! : )


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